


Dark Days

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [572]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Brotp, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 17:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: preludeinz askedi just got power back after florence, can i get the brotp after two days of being stuck in each others company without any power





	Dark Days

“Ten bucks is they’re sitting in opposite corners not talking to each other.”

Virgil has to concentrate on flying; the storm has passed but there’s still a lot of chop in the air, and he’s tired after three days of sandbagging and air-lifting.  There’d been no time to rescue a stupid brother and a London agent who should have known better, and they’d been left to wait out the storm in relative safety while the others actually worked.

The remote house on the hill is their last stop before the Island and home.  Virgil can almost hear his bed calling, and he has no idea how Alan can still be this bouncy.

It can’t be allowed to stand.  “Twenty says John has created a generator using two mouse from the kitchen and a wheel made out of matchsticks to power some device to stave off his need for technology,” he retorts, banking Two through a wide, gentle arch around a particularly grumpy looking storm cloud.  Lady P’s beacon is bright and strong and closing fast.

Alan laughs, delighted to have gotten a bite.  “Thirty says the mice are the final straw that made Penny want to murder him.”

Virgil does one last check of the radar, but the air looks clear enough for a straight descent.  “Forty says she’s this close to murdering him with said matchstick.”

“Fifty they’ve gone mad with isolation,” Alan says, folding his arms with finality as Two touches down.

It’s still raining out, and Virgil stands by under the relatively sheltered bulk of Two, peering through the sleeting rain.  Before he can tap his comm, however, he spies movement.  

Penny is a bright flash of pink, her giggles carrying over the rain pounding against the hull. It’s been a long time since Virgil last heard that easy, open laugh of John’s, and as they get closer, Virgil can make out words that would make their grandmother blush and reach for the soap.

“You did offer to carry me, darling” Penny laughs as they stagger into the calm below Two.  “He did offer,” she adds to Virgil like he has a clue what is going on.  “He said he would carry me to safety, he really has no grounds to complain about how much I weigh.”

“Show Virgil your shoes, Pen. Virgil, tell her she’d nail herself to the sod trying to cross that muck in those,” John shoves his sodden, drooping hair off his face with both hands, flicking the droplets off his fingers.

Virgil raises one eye at the five inch spike stilettos being held out right in his face and decides not to touch that debate with a ten foot pole.  “So, you two okay?”

“Fine, apart from her lack of rain coat and my desperate need for a shower,” John shrugs as he gently sets Penny down on her stocking-ed feet on the circular people lift next to Virgil.

Penny is grace personified as she rolls onto her balance, one arm light of Virgil’s bicep. “A raincoat would spoil the lines of this suit. And-” Her smile up at Virgil is sweet and malicious as her grip on him tightens.  Virgil is only half-ready for the way she kicks back with gentle accuracy to knock John out and back into the storm. His curse is loud as he staggers and slips down into the squelchy mud.  “Enjoy your shower,  _darling_.”

Virgil’s laughing as he punches the ascend button for the elevator.  Penny squeals as John gets traction faster than Virgil expected to launch himself onto the rising platform.  He’s dripping mud as he engulfs her into a hug, smearing dirt down her smart suit, but Penny doesn’t seem to mind.  

“Who needs a shower now.  Brat,” he adds fondly, dropping his chin to rest on the top of her head.

Virgil leaves them dripping and heads back up to the cockpit to get them in the air. And if the shower on board Two suddenly, mysteriously stops working, well, they’d be at the Island in an hour.

Just long enough for the mud to properly set.


End file.
